


Blue Shirt

by atari_writes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Broken Bones, F/M, Medical Phobia, bones is a gift, descriptions of panic attack, untreated injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atari_writes/pseuds/atari_writes
Summary: Bones' girl breaks her wrist in engineering and refuses to have it treated because of a bad medical experience





	1. Chapter 1

One minute everything was fine. You were in a vertical Jefferies tube, doing some minor maintenance in engineering, humming a classical song to yourself and chatting with Lex, who was in the tube above yours. The next, your boot was slipping on the ladder and you were falling out of the tube. You barely had time to scream before you were landing on the deck with a loud thud and a small crack.

You lay still for a second, trying to assess the damage. You were on your stomach, forehead pressed to the hard ground. You flex your legs; they were fine. Your right arm is bent off to the side, and you flex it and use it to push yourself onto your back. As soon as you move your weight from your right arm to your left underneath you, you feel a radiating, piercing pain. You shriek and fall onto your back. Well, you found your left arm. 

There was shuffling in the tube above you and you just lay there, trying unsuccessfully to bite back tears. A head pokes over the lip of the tube you were just in. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You wince. “Do I look okay?” Lex grimaces, clearly detecting the tears in your voice, then starts to climb down the tube. “If you fall on me, I will kill you.” You gasp out.

She drops next to you and kneels. “What hurts?”

You groan. “Everything.”

She touches your outstretched arm and you bite back a scream. “Don’t.” You glare at her and use your left elbow to brace yourself into a sitting position. Lex puts her hands up like she’s trying to steady you, but you glare at her again. Once you’re up, you cradle your left wrist and look down to assess the damage.

The skin around your wrist is red and swollen—parts of it are already turning purple and blue—and your hand is sitting at an angle to your arm. You fight a wave of nausea. “Holy shit,” you mutter.

Lex is freaking out. “Y/N, oh my god! That’s disgusting!”

You glare at her. “Yeah, and it hurts like a motherfucker. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What happened? I heard a scream!” You both turn at the voice, seeing Scotty running up through the hall.

Lex shoots to her feet. “Y/N broke her arm!”

You roll your eyes. “I broke my wrist. Not the whole arm.” You turn to face Scotty, then wince and grunt at the pain of jostling your wrist. Thankfully, you’ve stopped crying. Probably from shock.

Scotty comes up beside you and kneels down. “Ach, Lass, that looks bad.” He grimaces. “You should up to Medbay, get that looked at.”

At the mention of the Medbay your blood runs cold. “No. Absolutely not.”

Scotty looks at you like you’re insane. Maybe you are. “Lass, you cannae let that sit. It’s gotta be splinted. Or casted. Or somethin’.”

“I said no. I’m not going.” You level a glare at Scotty. “I’ll be fine.”

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t be ridiculous.” Lex is nearing hysterics. “Dr. McCoy is your boyfriend or something, right?”

You grit your teeth. “Yeah. Well, we’ve been on dates.” You shut your eyes at the sudden wave of pain. “Shit. Just help me up.” You try to get your knees underneath you while still cradling your arm, and Scotty lurches over to help, grabbing you underneath your right elbow and supporting you with an arm around your waist.

“Lass, come on, I’ll help ya to the lift.”

As soon as you’re on your feet you pull away from him. “I’m not going, Scotty! Leave me alone about it!”

He stands with his hands up. “Alright, Lass, okay. I cannae make you.”

Lex gapes at him. “Scotty, she can’t work with that! Look at it!”

Scotty runs a hand over his face. “I know. Y/N, go to your quarters, take the rest of the day off.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “You sure you won’t go to Medbay?”

You shake your head. “I won’t.” Your lower lip wobbles. You’re dangerously close to tears again. Honestly, you’re surprised you’re not still a sobbing mess. 

Scotty shakes his head. “Lass, I cannae make you go, but I also cannae let you work with that.” He gestures to your wrist, now covered in purple splotches. “Don’t report until it’s fixed.”

You gape at him. “Scotty, I—“

“No, Lass. I won’t allow it. You need to get that fixed.”

You grit your teeth and sniff back a fresh wave of tears. “Yessir.” You turn and hurry off to the lift, determined to get to your quarters before the tears break through the dam.

Four hours later you’re in your quarters, watching some classic program and trying to keep your mind off the pulsing pain. You’ve taken painkillers, but all they did was dull the ache a little, and not make you wanna scream every time you jostled your arm. You’d finished crying an hour ago, but your heart rate was still slightly elevated from your panic attack. You were currently trying to take deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth, but it was barely working.

A loud knock at your door startles you, and take a shaky breath. “Who is it?” You voice wobbles slightly, and you curse yourself, hoping whoever it was didn’t notice.

A muffled voice sounds from behind the door. “It’s Leonard, sweetheart.”

You narrow your eyes at the closed door. There was no way Scotty didn’t tell him. “What do you want, Lee?”

“Let me in, darlin’. Let me look at that arm.”

Your heart drops. “No.” You curl your knees under you and lean against the arm of the couch to face the door. You pull your arm closer to your chest. “Leave me alone.”

You can picture him sighing and shaking his head. You know he’s frustrated and just trying to help, but you can’t help yourself. Your body plunges into another panic. Your heart starts beating erratically and you can’t catch your breath.

“Darlin’, I’m comin’ in.”

His medical override code. Dammit. “Don’t you dare!”

The faint beeps of the keypad feel like a crushing weight constricting your chest, and tears build up behind your eyes. The door slides open, and at the first glimpse of the blue of his shirt you collapse into sobs. You hear the door slide shut, then through your tears you see him rush towards you. “Shit, darlin’!”

He tosses his bag of medical equipment he’s brought onto the couch beside you, then he slides onto the cushion next to yours. He puts his hand gently on your raised knee, and you break through a sob long enough to kick out at him. “Stop! Don’t—“ you collapse back onto the couch and you can’t breathe it’s so tight around your chest and you’re just inhaling, trying desperately to move air into your lungs.

Bones drops to his knees in front of you and puts his hands on your head, one on your forehead, the other on the side of your face. “Hey, Y/N!”

You shut your eyes and shake your head, still trying to—

“Breathe,” he says, quiet and firm.

Your eyes fly open and he’s so close. So close all you can see are his hazel eyes and his mouth. “Breathe.” You watch his lips exaggerate the motions of inhaling and exhaling. “That’s it. In through your nose—out through your mouth.”

You breathe in time with him until you can feel your heart slow and the cord around your chest loosen. “That’s it sweetheart.” The hand on your forehead moves up to smooth your hair, and the thumb on his other hand rubs soothingly against your cheekbone. “There we go—nice and easy. You know me, darlin’. It’s just Lee, sweetheart, just me.” You can feel your breathing leveling out. “It’s just Lee.” You nod and bite your lip. “Hey, there we go,” he says gently. His thumbs go back to your cheeks to wipe away the tears. “That’s it, I gotcha.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You were fine. Everything was fine. “Can you sit up for me, darlin’?”

You nod you head and open your eyes to scoot up on the couch, wincing when you jostle your arm. He sits up on his knees and pulls your legs off the couch so that you’re sitting up straight. He then slowly moves back up to sit on your left side. “Let me see, darlin’.” His voice is still gentle, still so soothing. You look over at him and shake your head, pulling your arm closer to your chest. He brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering to cup your face. “It’s just me, darlin’, just Lee.” You bite your lip and shake your head again, biting back more tears. But he doesn’t get angry or frustrated, he just brings his other hand up to cup your face. He gently turns your head to face him. His thumbs are rubbing softly. “You know me, darlin’.” 

Your lip wobbles. “I’m scared.”

He smiles gently. “I know, darlin’. But it’s just me. Are you scared of me, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “’Course not, Lee.”

He nods. “Well then you should let me look at your arm, okay? It’s in bad shape sweetheart. I need to fix it.”

You nod, then catch a glimpse of his blue shirt out of the corner of your eye. Suddenly it’s all you can focus on, flashbacks of faceless blue shirts attack you and you can feel your heart picking up again, and the lump is back in your throat.

“Hey, hey! What is it?” He follows your eyes down to his shirt. “Is it the blues?”

You shakily nod your head and can’t help the tears that escape. He rubs them away, then reaches behind his head to grab a handful of his shirt to pull it off. He throws it over the back of the couch so you can’t see it anymore, leaving him in just his black undershirt.

The absence of blue is so inexplicably calming that you sag with relief. “Alright, there we go. Much better.” Bones sounds as relieved as you feel. 

You take in several deep breaths. “Sorry, Lee. I don’t know—“

“No, don’t apologize. No one can control panic attacks.” One of his hands is back on your face. He glances down at your arm and winces. “Can I look at this hand now?”

You nod, feeling incredibly embarrassed at the look on his face. He gently removes the arm from your lap to rest on his. “Jesus, sweetheart.” He gently turns the arm over. You bite back a sob at the movement. “You don’t have anything for the pain, either, do you?” He asks, looking at you from under his brow.

You bite your lip against the pain and shake your head. He sighs. “Jesus Christ, darlin’.”

He shifts to grab his supplies. He loads a simple painkiller into the hypo and holds it up. “Are you okay with this?”

You nod. “Needles don’t bother me.”

He shakes his head. “Of course they don’t,” he mutters.

You give him a small smile as he injects the hypo. He shakes his head again, and moan at the instant relief. “Shit, that’s nice.”

He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what you get when you see a doctor, darlin’, and don’t let a broken wrist sit for hours.”

You wince. “You can fix it though, right?” He gives you The Look. You bite your lip. “Of course you can.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be hard pressed to do it here, but I’m guessing no Medbay?”

You shake your head viciously. “Absolutely not.”

He nods and grimaces. “Thought not.”

You watch his face as he works to keep your mind off of what he’s actually doing to your arm. You can’t help but admire the hard set of concentration on his face. He’s so smart, so good to you, and you can’t help the swell you feel in your heart. He handled your panic attack so well, knowing exactly what to say to make you feel safe, not even questioning you. He was so good. You know he’d protest, saying he was just doing his job, but you thought he was incredible.

“All done,” his voice snaps you out of it. You glance down at your arm. It’s carefully splinted and wrapped. You flex your fingers and feel a slight twinge, but that’s all.

You visibly relax, then look up to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

He sees the tears in your eyes and uses a thumb to brush them away. “Of course, sweetheart.” He tilts your face up to meet his eyes, and his face is still concerned. “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” you say quietly.

He nods absentmindedly and strokes his thumb over your jaw. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shrug. “You don’t have to listen.”

“Hey, of course I do. I’m your boyfriend; that’s boyfriend stuff.”

Your stomach does a happy flip when he calls himself your boyfriend. Half of your mouth tilts upward. “Boyfriend?”

He opens his mouth. “Um, yeah.” He laughs. “Sorry, darlin’, I thought—“

You shake your head. “No! I just mean you hadn’t said it before and we didn’t really talk about it. But…I’d like to be your girlfriend?”

He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’d really like that, sweetheart.” 

You smile and lean against him, and he wraps you in his arms.


	2. Nothing to be Afraid Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just follow up cuddling and backstory

You curl in tighter around yourself in bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin, careful to avoid bumping your wrist unnecessary. After he’d fixed you up, Bones had gone back up to the Medbay to tie things up for the day. He’d promised he’d be back as soon as possible, and he swore he wasn’t leaving your side for the rest of the night.

Despite your lingering anxiety, you smile giddily at the thought. Your boyfriend was gonna cuddle you for the rest of the night. Your boyfriend. You burrow your face into your pillow and smile. But—you’d only just started dating. Was this too fast? Was this too much to ask of him? Dealing with your anxiety attack and then asking him to listen to you talk about it? A frown creeps onto your face and doubt starts to drown your giddy thoughts. But he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t mind, right? He didn’t have to come back for you—maybe he wasn’t going to. He’d been gone for a while—

Just as you were seriously starting to think he wasn’t coming back for you, you hear the sound of your door opening and boots in your quarters. “Darlin’? You in bed?”

You turn over and sit up. “Yeah, in here.” You stare at the wall in front of you until he’s standing in the doorway. You bite your lip, still staring ahead, not sure if you’re ready to see the blue shirt again. 

“You feelin’ better, sweetheart?”

You finally glance over at him, and almost cry in relief when you see he’s changed into an old t-shirt. You give him a small smile. “Yeah, a little.”

He nods, his brow furrowed as he scans you. “How’s the wrist?”

You fiddle with the cast in your lap. “It’s good. Better.” This was ridiculous. Why was this so awkward?

He seems to feel the same way. “Can I come in? This feels a bit weird.” He laughs awkwardly.

You nod. “Yeah, of course.” You smile and scoot over, patting the side of the bed gently with your casted wrist.

He walks over and toes off his shoes. He sits gently on the bed, his back against the headboard, and takes your wrist from your lap to cradle in his. You smile at his fingers, gently prodding at your hand and casted wrist. “Any pain or tenderness?”

You shake your head. “Just sore.”

“You wanna lie back down?”

You nod. “I’m a little tired.”

He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Lay down, I’ll sit with you.” 

You scoot down and curl up on your side, your back to him. “You can lay down too, if you want.”

You don’t see it, but he smiles at your back, and nods. “Yeah, sure darlin’.”

He lays down next to you and drapes his arm over you, cupping your casted wrist with his hand. He presses a kiss to your temple, then rests his head on the pillow next to yours. “Sometimes it can help to talk about it.”

You nod and bring your knees up a little higher, then grab his hand and pull him closer to you by his arm. “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

You feel him stiffen against you. “Sweetheart, I could never think that.” His other hand pulls your hair off your forehead, and he presses another kiss to your temple. 

You nod, then roll onto your back, still cradling his hand to your stomach. He’s propped up on his elbow, staring down at you. He gives you an encouraging smile. You take a deep breath. “Okay.” You nod again, steeling yourself. “Okay. I’ve never really talked about this, so I don’t know how this is gonna go, okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, darlin’. You can stop whenever you want, okay?”

You give him a small smile, instantly soothed by his gentleness. “Okay, um, me and my sister grew up on a Federation colony. My dad was a scientist, and he was researching crop development, or something. And when my sister was six, she was diagnosed a rare blood disease.”

“What was it called?” His voice is gentle.

You shrug. “I dunno. I was eight. I didn’t understand much of what was happening. I just knew that all these doctors in blue shirts wanted to study her, to figure out what was going on. They kept telling me everything was gonna be fine.” You shrug again. “They just kept promising, you know? That’s all they said every time my dad would take her. They just kept promising they were gonna make her better, that everything was going to be fine. But every time she came back home, she always looked so much worse.” You can feel the tears building up. You sniff hard. “I know now it was just the treatment, or the disease progressing or whatever, but all I could think was they were letting us down. My sister was my best friend, and they promised, you know?” You’re crying now, your casted hand covering your face, the other hand squeezing Lee’s wrist. 

You can hear him over your gasping breathes, soothing you, telling you its okay. His hand is running through your hair, keeping it off your face. He lets you cry, not forcing you to say or do anything. 

“I know—“ you gasp between sobs. “I know it doesn’t make sense—“

He shakes his head. “No. No, Y/N, your trust was betrayed. That makes sense to me.”

You release your death grip on his wrist, and pull your hand off your face to look up at him. You nod, and he wipes the tears off your face. “It does, right? I’m not crazy.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not crazy. Not even a little.”

You nod and lay your head back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, just feeling the soothing motion of his fingers in your hair. “About a year after she was diagnosed—“

Lee rubs his thumb on your chin and gently moves your head to look at him. “You don’t have to keep goin’, darlin’. It’s okay.”

You shake your head. “No, I wanna finish.”

He nods and kisses your cheek. “You’re bein’ so brave, darlin’,” he says gently.

You smile at him appreciatively. “Thanks, Lee,” you whisper.

You clear your throat and focus on the ceiling again. “Okay. So a year after she started treatment and everything, they told my dad they had a new treatment they could try. So the doctors took her and promised she’d be better when she came back.” You shrug. “And she never came back.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“She was my little sister and I was supposed to protect her. I thought we could trust them.” Your tears are silent this time.

He cups your face with his hand and rubs his thumb through your tears. “You were young. And that shouldn’t have happened to you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip and lean into him. “Yeah. I just wanna nap now, is that okay?” Your voice is soft and shaky.

He kisses your forehead. “Of course, darlin’. I can go—“

You grab his shirt. “Stay?” You look up at him hopefully.

He smiles. “Yeah, I can do that.” He moves his arm underneath your shoulders and pulls you into his body. “Get comfortable, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He kisses your shoulder and rubs a thumb over the back of your hand. “I’m glad you told me. You can come to me with anything, sweetheart, you know that?”

You smile and hum. “Thank you, Lee.”

He laughs. “And next time you hurt yourself, don’t wait four hours to tell me about it.”

“Well, I have you now.”

He smiles. “Yeah, sweetheart, you have me.” He kisses your forehead. “And you have nothing to be afraid of.”


End file.
